Between The Lies - Parts Two and Three
by Irene Claire
Summary: Followup to the original one shot. Part 2 where Stan Edwards tries to come to terms with losing his son to Danny Williams. References of course to Rachel, little Charlie and Grace. Friendship/bromance shared between Steve and Danny. Part 3 has two versions; one where Steve may be considered to be OOC. But it's where Steve has his confrontation with Rachel. Protective Steve.
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Notes:** I'm honestly astonished over the amazing reviews for that original one-shot. With such encouragement and the volume of ideas bandied about, the muse was kicked in the bottom.

So, here's an attempt at Stan's POV - at least one aspect of it. I'm pondering a Steve/Rachel confrontation ... the scenario needs a decent outline though which is currently elusive.

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

Danny found the plainly wrapped package on the front seat of his car. He stared at it through the open window of his Camaro. Keys in hand with his fingers gently wrapped around the door's handle as he stopped cold, uncertain as to what to do. At first he was unsure of the benign package's intent and his ingrained habits to be cautious kicked in with a vengeance. Barely breathing and no longer moving an inch in either direction, Danny studied what appeared to be a narrow rectangular box. Brown paper, perfectly taped closed without a crinkle – no writing. However, tossed just off-kilter to its side was a plain white envelope. Legal sized and duly addressed to himself as simply ' _Danny'_. The handwriting was messy and evidently done in haste. But it clearly stated his name and was apparently from Stan Edwards per the scrawled signature of ' _Stan'_.

The window to his car had been left open in the Five-0 parking lot. It was mid-afternoon and Danny had been on his way out to retrieve lunch for his team. Still virtually frozen by the side of the driver's door, he looked around quickly, trying to spy Stan or his large SUV but coming up empty. Danny frowned as he eyed the items suspiciously. Other than going to the trouble of pulling up the lot's video tape, there was no way to tell when Stan might have stopped by.

Of more import, was … _why_?

Instead of opening the letter or the discreet package, Danny was pushed into a foul mood as he tossed both to the passenger seat when he slid into his car.

He'd look later … after lunch … or much later, when he was ready. _Maybe ... or maybe, never_.

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

Stan Edwards was not a vindictive man. In fact, he was rarely even angry. While it was true that he'd sometimes made mistakes in his vast business dealings, he never intentionally ever meant ill towards others. But his wife's confession had pushed him over an unanticipated edge. There would be a divorce now; it was merely a matter of when ... and how. The _how_ being the cold mechanics of said divorce and if any subsequent child support might be mandated.

In the sanctity of his home office, Stan sneered silently to himself at the concept. _Child_ support? For what? Better yet, for whom? His soon to be ex-wife was going to have an incredibly difficult time getting a penny from his coffers once he set his lawyers loose. Certainly he'd be required to give nothing for children which weren't even his by blood.

But he couldn't just turn his heart off. Not for either one of them.

"Damn her," Stan snarled angrily, his face falling morosely into his hands a moment later when he heard Charlie calling for him. He hadn't slept in days for the stress and he truly believed that he hated her with every fiber of his being. His very sick and beloved son astonishingly wasn't his. A truth he'd only discovered because the three year old was so deathly ill and required a bone marrow transplant in order to have a chance in surviving. But young Charlie needed an exact donor match to give him any hope, something which Stan absolutely had no issue with ... he'd give his son the moon on a silver platter or better yet, trade places with him, no questions asked ... until the truth came out.

 _Oh, I'm sorry Stanley, but Charlie isn't actually your son. There's no point in having you tested. No. Point. At. All._

" _Daddy_!" The first faint shout made him startle from his angry musings and Stan wiped his eyes right before his office door was tugged open. The tousled blonde head barely reached the door knob which then required a firm yank to open, but there was no stopping the little boy when he wanted something.

"Hey Charlie," Stan said weakly when the boy trotted over to where he was sitting behind his desk. He measured the healthy glow with approval because he looked good that day. Full of spunk and an excited vigor. "What are you doing, buddy?"

"Daddy, _move,_ " Charlie demanded of his one time father, very serious as he pushed and pulled on Stan's arm in order to claim just enough space. He grunted dramatically, while still grinning from ear to ear, until he shoved himself successfully between desk and business suit.

"Hi, little man," Stan whispered sadly as he quickly got the hint and eased the boy up onto his lap. Almost immediately, the toy fire truck which Charlie had clutched in one hand was off across the top of his desk in his large home office. At his mercy were the architectural plans for Stan's latest project, yet the elder Edwards didn't bother to push them aside as the toy's plastic wheels began to ruck up a corner. Instead, he held the boy's waist when he leaned forward, legs scissoring wildly in order to gain more distance across the big desk, trusting he wouldn't fall. All the time, rumbling and purring through his lips fiercely as the firetruck picked up speed towards some imaginary crisis.

Stan managed a melancholy smile as he planted a kiss on the top of the boy's head, the ongoing childish burrs escalating as Charlie pushed his truck even faster. He watched blandly as the fire truck caught a seam in the professional plans, a hotel renovation for one of his new properties in Las Vegas. Seconds later, the rip of paper was audible and yet Stan couldn't have cared less. Caught up in the little person he virtually cradled in his arms, Stan felt another pang of hatred for his wife.

 _Stan, I truly am so very ... very sorry. I never wanted this to happen ... I never wanted to hurt you._

"Well you did, damn it, Rachel." Stan bit back the curse which tried to break free from his lips. Right then and at that very minute, he despised her. He hated her ex-husband for the affair they'd enjoyed which resulted in this beautiful baby which wasn't his. He completely resented the terrible situation they'd both fobbed on him and his son.

 _No, Charlie's not my boy anymore,_ Stan silently reminded himself. _"He's Danny's son."_

It was such a messed up, ridiculous situation, Stan still didn't know how to wrap his head around this soap opera-like story to end all stories. Rachel hadn't only lied to him, she'd also lied to her ex-husband. It was startling to realize that neither man had known the truth about Charlie for the three short years of his young life. In fact, neither of them ever would have known the truth if not for the gravity of Charlie's illness.

Stan faked a smile when Charlie leaned back to happily peer up into his face. "I got my new truck," Charlie announced proudly, swinging the firetruck so wildly in the air that he just missed clunking Stan in the nose.

"Daddy?" His next question was only half-serious though as he fidgeted back towards the desk. "Play with me?"

"I tried to call him again today," Stan softly confessed to the top of the suddenly oblivious blonde head. "I tried, but I couldn't do it, little man. But I've done something else. It wasn't easier, but it was ... better."

The sigh he heaved was loud, distinctly unhappy and beyond depressed in its tone. Within a matter of days, Stan Edward's entire world had been ripped apart and torn upside down. Sort of like the paper plans for his new hotel which were becoming damaged with every gregarious chubby-handed push of the toy firetruck. He'd vacillated in his moods and what he thought he needed to do or what he should do. But there was always one constant - a desire to speak to Danny Williams. It was the context and the subject of that discussion which Stan couldn't correctly define though. He also wasn't sure if he could control it.

His mood swings had him screaming in rage. His volatile thoughts had him attacking Danny verbally and even physically for this ultimate of lies. Conversely, he wanted just to talk because Danny was also suffering. As strange as it may have sounded, the two men actually _liked_ each other. In the very least, they mostly understood each other and Stan chuffed a disgruntled noise under his breath as he rubbed his old shoulder wound distractedly.

Danny had shot him one sunny afternoon in a park and Stan had been fine with it. While some might say that he never had a choice, Stan had unflinchingly taken a bullet for Danny's daughter. To save her from a maniac. And what had Stan done afterwards? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Grace had eventually been rescued. Stan had recovered in the hospital, during which time, Danny had visited in order to apologize profusely.

Then what had Stan Edwards done about it? Nothing - except provide an understanding smile and an easy _'no problem, Danny. I understand."_

So, up until that very day, Stan had done absolutely nothing but toss around an unhealthy mix of confusing emotions. He'd wallowed, dwelled and would soon have to allow himself the start of a mourning period.

"Daddy, daddy … _daddy_!" Charlie chanted over and over, leaning back to nearly hit small head to chin as his childish excitement increased over nothing in particular except for his simple happiness.

"I wish that were still true," Stan muttered to himself. It was nearing the time when he'd no longer hear that particular word and he fought the renewed spike of anger which rippled across his very soul. His other constant of late was his growing outrage and hatred for his wife's elaborate years-worth of deceit. Now wasn't the time to give into that though; certainly not with Charlie in his arms. His current internal mental struggle materialized as a soft moan of pain around another of the boy's irresistible giggles.

Dwelling in the gregarious sound of non-stop rumbling motorized chugging sounds, Stan Edwards closed his eyes while resting his chin gently on top of Charles William Edwards' young head. The vibration ebbed and flowed through the little body and up into Stan's jaw. He couldn't fathom what might happen next or what the future could hold, so he focused on the rumble instead. Oddly soothing and yet simultaneously distressing, it still took all of his effort to fight the rise of tears which flooded his eyes.

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

"How long are you going to wait to open those? Don't you want to see what's inside?" Steve asked impatiently, gesturing to the package and white envelope carelessly forgotten on the farthest side of his partner's desk. The entire day had come and gone, and Danny had maintained a staunch period of denial about the items as even being delivered. Steve, on the other hand, was stubbornly persistent about what Stan Edwards had so covertly left inside the Camaro.

"When are you planning to see what Stan wants? It could be important."

"I haven't decided," Danny curtly pushed out. There was a spark of anger and even defensiveness as he shoved the short pile Steve's way, his friend needing to rescue both the wrapped package and the white envelope as they teetered precariously off the edge of his desk.

Steve was also annoyed and more than a little concerned on Danny's behalf. He found himself needing to see what Stan had done and he was desperate to know if more pain was on the near horizon for his best friend. It was getting late and the sun was beginning to set. The last thing which Steve wanted was for Danny to be alone when he opened whatever had been left for him to find in the front seat of his car. So Steve stayed in the office, alongside his equally stubborn partner. He blatantly over-stayed his welcome, pestering and pushing.

"You know, this stuff could be very important," Steve stressed again. "All of this could be about Charlie. It could be medical records or something related to the doctors and his care."

That last comment wasn't very likely, yet it stirred Danny a bit more deeply and he paused long enough to think. He remained just as perturbed about the oddity of Stan having left the two articles for him. However, Steve's point was finally making a valid dent in his obstinate armor. So now, Danny eyed the envelope and package, considering Stan's possible motives before yielding just enough to grant Steve permission to look.

"If you're so interested, why don't you open them?"

"I will, if you mean it," Steve replied slyly, pulling the things onto his lap only jounce them haphazardly on one knee. He scowled though when Danny's eyes adopted a strangely angry squint. The look stopped him from continuing and Steve pursed his lips, unsure of how to proceed.

"So do you mean it? Is that a yes ... or a no?" The resultant sigh was loud and very aggrieved as Steve dramatically waved a free hand to demand more attention. "Danny? You need to see what he dropped off."

"Go ahead and open it, Steven," Danny muttered into his fist, chin poised on the palm of one hand. "I really don't care."

He glowered at the wrapped package, positive that nothing which Stan Edwards might leave for him was good even though he knew the man was just as wronged as he'd been. No doubt even more so for the original act itself; sleeping with one's ex-now-re-married-wife was bad enough to confess. Still, Danny chuffed a disgusted sound deep in his throat. He wasn't in the mood to deal with anything that day. Refusing to look up from his computer screen when Steve opted to open the package in lieu of the white envelope, his eyes glazed over. Suddenly, that computer screen and its merging blur of colors and symbols were seemingly more captivating than any messages or wrapped boxes which his ex-wife's husband might have delivered.

"Okay," Steve warned one final time as he opened one corner of the brown paper on-end, ripping just enough so he could peek inside and confirm it covered what had felt suspiciously like a glass picture frame. With an inquisitive noise, he slid the pretty ornate frame out, upside down, but a glimmer of smile was already beginning to form as he flipped it around. He looked at the picture long and hard before trying to get his friend's attention.

"Wow. You'll like this, Danny."

"I doubt it." With a suffering groan, Danny launched himself backwards in his chair and glared at his partner. He folded his arms across his chest, firmly and protectively, entirely unimpressed by Steve's initial reaction. "You opened it, now show me." Steve was beaming, but he had yet to turn the frame around and Danny wasn't in the mood to play games. He still felt an ingrained feeling of dread for anything related to his ex-wife and even to her current husband.

"What the hell is it?" Danny complained, his eyes narrowing in distrust as he identified the object as dark walnut-colored picture frame. "What's that a picture of?"

"It's Gracie ... with Charlie. He looks like you," Steve softly chuckled as he finally turned the frame, positioning it against his chest and waiting for the duly stunned reaction. "He really _really_ does, Danno."

And without a single doubt, Charlie surely did.

"What the heck?" Danny breathed out, his eyes widening with a renewed interest. The thick shock of disheveled blonde hair was only the start of what was now a much too obvious resemblance. Because, when the little boy smiled, the giddy laughter reached the startling blue of his eyes. Just like his father. Exactly like Danny at his very best of moments.

"See? Mini-you!" Steve danced the frame under his chin, unable to stop smiling as Danny's face morphed through any number of wild emotions.

"What?" Danny murmured, nearly rendered speechless by what was most obviously now an unexpected gift. The professional photograph was of three-year old Charlie sitting on Grace's lap. It was likely one of the most recent past Christmas' one-time ' _Edwards-family'_ holiday portraits; one which Danny originally wouldn't have been privy to seeing.

But now … _now_ , things were decidedly different and Stan - of all people - was making a gesture.

Utterly stunned, Danny stood up from his chair reaching out to take the portrait for himself. Dressed in their most festive holiday outfits, both children were giggling and caught in motion. Charlie with one leg swinging high, while Grace gripped him tightly to her chest in an attempt to keep him in place. Her cheek was pressed tightly against his rosy one, seconds before her brother would escape, and Steve could just imagine what had happened next after the camera's click. No doubt Charlie had fled his sister's clutches. But the half un-rehearsed moment in time was perfectly captured.

"Hey?" Steve tapped the white envelope on the edge of the desk to pull Danny's attention back to the other issue at hand. He smiled reassuringly when his friend's somewhat glassy eyes flew up to meet his face to then glance dumbly at the envelope. Seconds later, he was back to studying the framed portrait without uttering a single comment. The first feelings of apprehension had evaporated though and Steve was completely relieved. Stan Edwards was mostly a stand-up guy, but everyone's emotions had been sorely tried and tested. Anything could happen, and oftentimes it did, with even the most moral of individuals adopting alarming tendencies or wanting to retaliate. Regardless, the letter he held in his hands would certainly reveal more.

"Earth to Danny," Steve gently pushed. Over the last many days, Danny had experienced more than his fair share of stress. What he held in his hands now was a happy respite and because of that, Steve no longer feared the envelope. He bobbed his head lower to intentionally capture Danny's eye as he waved the paper in the air.

"The letter. Can I open this, too. Or, do you want to do that privately?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, go ahead," Danny muttered, entirely distracted by the children. _His_ children.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked hesitantly. "You know what, maybe I shouldn't, Danno. Stan obviously meant this for your eyes only." For a split second, he doubted even the intelligence of his presence as he studied Danny's profile. He'd been somewhat wrong to push his friend so strongly, but he'd been very concerned at first. Seeing the portrait was one thing, however a personal letter was just that. Very _persona_ l and Steve stalled, embarrassed and uncertain.

"It's okay," Danny said when he felt the atmosphere change. He glanced up with more focus, pointing to the paperwork to prove he wasn't entirely as distracted as Steve thought. "Yes. Open it. I'm sure it's nothing that I wouldn't want you to know about anyway."

"Alright," Steve said, a finger now in the crease to open the thin envelope. He read the letter within seconds, then his eyes hovered to the top to begin again. He breathed in and then out, purposefully making sure that he was in the here and now. Ensuring that what he was reading was true.

"Geez, Danny," he murmured softly. Without saying more, Steve slouched down in the chair, the single sheet of paper mere inches from his face as he reread the handwritten note for a third time, much more slowly and with distinct care. He stayed silent for a long time, too. Long enough for Danny's interest to deviate from the framed portrait to his friend's pensive state, finally piqued by an increasing fidget, inaudible sounds of confusion, and the newly amazed expression.

"So," Danny asked. His eyes narrowing suspiciously as he failed at reading Steve's expression. "Do I want to read that? What does he want?"

"He doesn't want anything, Danny," Steve confirmed with a thoughtful shake of his head. His mood had entirely changed as he handed the simple sheet of lined paper across the desk. The portrait had been a happy discovery, but the letter was sobering in its honesty. "At least, he's not exactly asking for anything in particular. This isn't what you think. Not at _all_ what you think."

"Uh huh." Danny scowled doubtfully as he took the one sheet from Steve's fingers. He didn't know what he thought Stan might have written, but he certainly wasn't sure how to decipher what he was seeing reflected in his friend's eyes. Shock? Awe? Surprise? Possibly even ... _respect_?

"Just read it," Steve insisted. "Then, you and I can talk some more."

 ** _::::::::::: Stan's Letter_** ** _:::::::::::_**

 _Danny –_

 _The time hasn't been right for me to call or see you, and frankly, I'm not sure if I will ever be ready and you may feel the same about me. I've always tried to be a good step-father to Grace, but now I'm no longer sure what my role is or ever will be in either of these kids' lives. There's no way on earth I can stop loving either of them and I want to be there for Charlie. I need to be there for him, but I simply don't know how to do that without confusing - or scaring him - even more. Charlie is smart and he senses something going on with the adults in his life. He knows something big is happening and that it involves him ... something more than being sick. _

_Things are bad enough and he shouldn't think he did anything wrong. He's a happy little boy despite this terrible sickness. He's outgoing and wonderful; and I won't let any part of that change for him._

 _I never understood why you stood in for me when Rachel went into labor. In fact, I never understood you … at all… the move to Hawaii. The massive changes you made in your life to be near your daughter. When I married Rachel, it felt as if I just about married you, too. I resented that you were virtually in our back-pockets ... and breathing down my neck at every opportunity. _

_But then I became a father and I thought I understood. I thought that I finally had gotten it; right up until the time this debacle happened with Charlie._

 _Because now he's not mine. He's yours and I probably should be angry with both of you. I know I am with Rachel, yet I just can't get entirely there. The point is that anger – rage – and fury – aren't going to make a difference about a damned thing. I love these kids. There's no way on earth that I can stop loving this little boy because of some lousy blood test._

 _This precious, sick little kid who is the number one priority in this crazy fiasco of which he had choice in creating, and yet … he's the center of it. So, before I change my mind again and forget that Charlie is the priority in all of this - before I forget that you're not only half responsible but also a victim - I wanted to share a few things with you because it's easier to talk about Charlie right now._

 _Consider it repayment for what you tried do to for me the day this little man was born ... because a father should know his son._

 ** _:::::::::::_**

"Wow," Danny murmured. He stopped reading because he had to. The words had begun to merge together so badly that he could barely scan the next few sentences. His hand fell into his lap, the paper rustling as he stared in shock into Steve's face. "This is incredible."

"Everyone's hurting," Steve whispered, barely hiding his own sad twinge of emotional distress for the tears in Danny's eyes. "He has no one to turn to and he's rightly worried about Charlie. So, in a strange way, it makes sense that he wants to talk to you, even if it's by writing a letter."

He didn't add more, but he was thinking about how Danny knew what it felt like to experience that very first lie told at the onset of Rachel's pregnancy. He keenly remembered the devastation on Danny's face when Rachel told him that the baby couldn't be his. Steve had seen what that had done to one man and now the situation was ten times worse, so he could just imagine what this new truth was doing to Stan Edwards.

"Right. Okay," Danny sighed. After roughly scrubbing his face, he simply started reading again; inhaling each and every purposeful word which Stan had seen fit to share.

 ** _::::::::::: Stan's Letter :::::::::::_**

 _You're the last person in the world that I would dare give parental advice to. In fact, I think I've learned more from you, so let me start with something else. Let me just talk about Charlie._

 _Did you know that Charlie's first word was 'Gace'? Everything was 'Gace' this or 'Gace' that. He drove his sister crazy and he still follows her around like an annoying puppy. He can barely stand it when she goes to school or isn't home ... and Grace just adores him right back._

 _Like a lot of little kids, Charlie likes_ _hot dogs. Some of his other favorites are macaroni and cheese, french fries, and of all things, baked beans. Sweets? Don't leave him alone near anything chocolate ... chocolate cake, chocolate malasadas, shave ice, well ... you get the picture._

 _Charlie's favorite color is blue; he hates to wear shoes and hates to take naps. He's so afraid that he'll miss something and he'll go until he drops before giving in ... but I love that about him. He'll go and go ... non-stop ... asking questions ... moving ... looking ... running ... wanting to be everywhere and see everything all at once. Then, he just topples over ... mid sentence ... sound asleep and just ... happy._

 _He has a dinosaur named Oscar – which, I swear that thing has nine lives. Oscar is a T-Rex and he's already survived the pool filter, the ocean, one attempted toilet bowel flushing, an accidental dismemberment (fixed), plus even being abandoned on the roof of my truck._

 _Oscar is ... special. If I give you one bit of advice, it's don't ever lose Oscar, Danny._

 _And right now, Charlie wants to be everything when he grows up. Just last week, he wanted to be a superhero and I thought we had a winner because he loves Batman. His entire bedroom from sheets to curtains is Batman. But this week he's had a change of heart and now he wants to be a fireman. So after yesterday's trip to the doctor's office, I swung by a toy store and bought a firetruck. I found the very best one I could get for him. Needless to say, he hasn't put the damned thing down once._

 _I want ... wanted ... to say more and I thought that I wanted to say it in person, Danny. Much more, but I couldn't get myself there because there's just too much wrong. Too much anger. This note will have to do for now. M_ _aybe one day we'll have that conversation. One day ... when all of this makes sense. If it ever does._

 _~ Stan._

 **_:::::::::::_**

There was nothing to do when Danny finished reading the short note. The writing wasn't perfect and seemed to be an out-pouring of random thoughts about Stan and his fears. Fears that he'd lose important memories ... shared as a letter and entirely _through_ Charlie. Yet Danny read the words through as many times as Steve had, mystified by Stan's generosity yet knowing the man was completely devastated.

"How could she have done this?" He whispered in disbelief. "None of us are innocent, but how the hell did we all get here?" If Rachel hadn't lied so long ago, things would have been so different. Maybe not perfect for any one of them, but different enough where their hearts weren't being torn out of their chests over a little boy whom everyone loved.

"Steve, I just don't understand how ... or why ... she did this." He closed his eyes while rubbing a new ache which was settling between his eyes. He needed to do something. He just didn't know what. "I guess that I should call him," Danny eventually murmured. "Call him ... thank him for what he's trying to say. _Something_."

"Maybe not quite yet. He got as far as the office and then left everything in the car. So wait a bit," Steve suggested quietly. "He doesn't sound like he's ready, Danny. For three years, he believed that Charlie was his kid. He's trying to wrap his head around what's happened and figure out what the right thing is for him to think ... and to do ... for Charlie's sake."

"Aren't we all," Danny smirked sarcastically, a one-sided sneer ruining any niceties as he considered the depths to what Rachel had done to so many people. Had she maintained the truth from the very beginning, there had been a strong likelihood of their reconciliation. No doubt it would have been near scandalous and incredibly awkward, but it very well could have been a very real future and Danny had originally wanted that with all his heart.

The trust was gone now though; demolished and buried not only for him, but also for Stan. With her treacherous decision, Rachel had rendered destruction on a massive scale.

"How the hell did this happen?" Danny sighed again. "And ... why? Just ... _why_?"

"I don't know," Steve whispered under his breath. He was at a loss, too. Sometimes as an outsider, things could be more clear. But this time, he was as much in the dark as those directly involved. Unable to offer more than his ongoing support, Steve could only watch now as Danny carefully re-folded the letter and stuffed it back into its envelope. He watched Danny shake his head in awe as he purposefully placed the framed portrait on his desk.

Steve _watched_ as Danny was completely unable to prevent his face from softening as he visually embraced his two children.

 _ **~ END ~**_


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Notes:** Original version purged by the annoying muse who wanted Steve to _blow up_ **.**

Here's the thing: the muse purged this last weekend in one go. However, after discussing this more logically with my dear Fifilla and beating the muse into submission, it was felt this chapter was OOC for Steve.

However, the muse (and I the writer) liked it for what it was and decided to post "as is". In fact, I personally wouldn't mind Steve being this way a tiny bit (okay, a lot sometimes!).

The next chapter will be Version B where the muse was tabled, tied and gagged and the logical writer corrected "OOC Steve". That version B has some similarities to this one, but the tone is quite different. It will be posted this weekend as the absolute final chapter.

You, the reader, may select whichever you like or hate or ' _whatever_ '!

 **Between the Lies - Part Three Original Version A (** _End_ **)**

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

"You need to leave." He was livid. Neck thickly corded with tension, the arms which were wrapped from behind were barely enough to keep him from doing something he'd definitely regret.

"Steve, back off," a voice whispered in his ear. "Calm down. Please, calm down for a minute." The voice was firm but just loud enough for only him to hear. However, Steve had no intention of listening. Something which he didn't bother to tell the man standing so tensely just behind his right shoulder. He didn't need to.

"You have no right. Especially here and especially now," Steve ground out, eight short inches from the woman's stricken face. He didn't care about that either. Let her look mortified, ashamed ... without apology, he hoped he was indeed frightening her.

"Danny wants her to stay the night and she damned well will do just that," he growled.

"My daughter ..."

"Needs her father right now," Steve interrupted harshly.

"This is ridiculous! Get out of my way," Rachel said, screwing her courage up a notch. "I'm taking my daughter home!"

"No. You're not," Steve maintained. With both Danny and Grace finally resting upstairs, there was no way on earth he'd back down from his position. Their day had been long and beyond traumatic, the freak accident at the beach parking lot involving a driverless, beat up old box truck had first injured an elderly woman. The chaos had continued when the out of control truck had picked up speed on the slight grade. Traveling in reverse when its old brakes had slipped, the downward roll had sent it on a heedless trajectory directly towards Kamekona's food truck and quaint picnic area. People had screamed as the ancient rusted-out behemoth bore down on them. Some had scattered haphazardly in order to save themselves, but others had been hurt in the melee. Including both Grace and Danny.

"Commander. Steve," Rachel dropped the tone of her voice as if to plead. However, her stunned anger re-intensified when he merely shook his head. "You can't do this."

Steve was in the doorway to his own home. Rachel was on the top step, a fist planted in the middle of the front door to prevent it from being slammed into her face. Behind Steve, Chin Ho Kelly was the one who had his hands wrapped tenaciously around the ex-SEAL's biceps. Steve chose not to respond to the woman's latest comments, the pressure from Chin's fingers were digging mercilessly into his right arm and he focused on that discomfort to keep him grounded. The continued warning was clear and Steve forced himself to take down his temper. So far, he knew that neither Grace nor Danny even suspected that Rachel Edwards was currently poised at his front door. Based on the goings on from that day, it was best that remained the case. So Steve held his tongue, the two regarding each other with hostile intent.

"I want to see her," Rachel demanded once more, her eyes flashed and her face was becoming reddened; the angry blush having begun to spread up from her mottled neck.

"No," Steve replied.

"You can't stop me from seeing my own child," Rachel ground out. "It's bad enough that I found out about this on TV ... on tonight's late night news!" She was seething and beginning to shake from the emotional stress.

"Tonight, I can - and I will."

"You have no right!" Rachel said, her voice rising as frustration got the better of her. "Why didn't anyone call me! Where's Danny? I want to see him and then Grace ... then, I'm taking my daughter home!"

"They're both fine and resting," Steve said as he threw the woman a small bone. "Grace is okay, but I told you that already ... as far as you taking her out of here? No, that's not going to happen," he repeated, a smirk firmly planted on his lips. "Here. Tonight. You need to leave ... go _home_."

Rachel's eyes narrowed just as her fist clenched even more tightly. Her arm was growing tired but she didn't dare move her hand from its spot on the door. But then her eye caught the movement from behind Steve. A very recognizable shadow was on the staircase just above his head and she'd know him anywhere.

"Danny," Rachel ignored Steve's sharp surprised inhale as her ex-husband limped down the steps in their direction. "Daniel! What happened today? Where's Grace?"

Though Steve had tried to remain quiet, Danny had heard the escalating murmurs from the bedroom upstairs. The higher treble of Rachel's voice struck an uncomfortable chord and he'd lurched painfully up in bed, listening hard to be sure. He stumbled badly after setting his feet on the floor. Every muscle from his neck down through his scraped and scoured lower back was instantly on fire with the movement. As bile rose in his throat, he literally had to fight the urge to vomit from the pain. Sweat collected at the base of his throat, leaking downwards to soak into Steve's borrowed t-shirt, but he got moving when he heard Rachel's voice rising even more.

"Rachel? What's going on? Why are you here?" Danny asked, his voice rough and hoarse, practically wrecked from fatigue, pain and heavy medications. "It's late."

"Why am I here?" She burst out in shock. "Why? Why are _you_ here ... why is Grace _here_? How badly was she injured?"

"What? Injured? No, she's fine." Danny blinked wearily, squinting when his brain went muddy and he couldn't grasp the reason behind the depths of her rage. "Grace is fine ... she got a little scared ... but she's fine."

Danny frowned in confusion. He finally settled on silently asking Steve for help; direction on what was happening with his ex-wife in the doorway to the man's home. The thick lines creasing his face only deepened though when he realized that Chin was holding his friend back and that a very real anger was crackling viciously around them.

"What's going on?" Danny pushed out. With a wince, he lifted his left arm to run his fingers through his sweaty hair. The motion exposed the bloody road rash which ran from the base of his wrist up to his elbow and then higher into the fleshy underside of his arm. Beneath the damage, painful discoloration was already forming. More bruises speckled his lower back where his muscles had been sorely wrenched in the intentional dive he'd taken to the ground. The picnic table which he and Grace had been sitting at had been demolished by the rampant box truck just before it had come to a reluctant halt. In a nearly super-human move, Danny had used his own body to protect his daughter. And Grace ... other than being just a bit frightened, was absolutely unscathed.

 _"Danno? Danno, what happened?" The aftermath had been undeniably loud and frightening, with Grace left briefly trapped between her father and the sandy ground. Kamekona had then appeared as if by magic to physically lift the shattered table from Danny's badly scuffed-up back. The picnic area had been demolished and it was truly miraculous that no one had been killed once the truck had come to a screeching, clattering stop and the proverbial dust had settled._

 _"Are you alright, Monkey?" Danny coughed, grimacing as his skinned neck grated with every turn of his head. "I'm not sure, but are you okay?"_

 _"Yes," Grace sniffled. "I'm ... okay. But Danno ... your arms are bleeding."_

 _"It's nothing ... just a few scrapes, baby," he'd said. But at the time, with his back beginning to feel as if it had been flayed, he hadn't been entirely certain of that fact._

"Daniel? You ... your arms?" For a startled moment, Rachel paused, stunned by the streaks of blood-red scratches which were only starting to scab over for their newness. She'd only returned from Maui earlier that very same evening. Like many people, she'd watched the late night news to catch up on current events. What she hadn't anticipated seeing though was a taped broadcast about a freak accident where an old box truck had slipped its brakes and rocketed backwards across a beach parking lot. People had scattered near a food truck when the errant vehicle jumped the curb, a small picnic area had been demolished, and there were a few injuries reported.

The media taping had interviewed the excited large Hawaiian owner of the food truck and Rachel would have recognized Kamekona anywhere. At first, she had smiled because the big man was eating up the attention. His flamboyant _shaka_ sign and gregarious reassurances that this food truck was _'a-okay brah!'_ and that he'd be open for business very soon with new tables was endearing. Until the piece had cut to a few interviews, shots of the aftermath from the truck's out of control path of destruction, and two-second snippet of a dark-haired child that looked incredibly like her own daughter. A few desperate phone calls later had confirmed that suspicion and when neither Grace nor her ex-husband had answered her frantic calls, she'd tracked them both down.

"What?" At an immediate loss to answer Rachel's sudden concern for him, he wound up repeating himself with Grace's frightened voice stuck in his head. "I swear she's okay. There isn't a scratch on her."

Rachel's mouth opened soundlessly and then closed, snapping shut so hard she clacked her teeth. Her eyes roamed the rest of his body, but she didn't see what was hidden on his back beneath the wrinkled t-shirt. All she could see was his bone-deep exhaustion and the slight hunch of his upper body.

"Danny." She knew she inquire about his injuries. However, she'd long ago lost her ability to be or even sound reasonable since stress and not knowing enough of the details had pushed her over a critical edge. So now, though she could see a few of Danny's scrapes and bruises for herself, those only meant Grace could also have been equally hurt. She needed Grace and she needed to get her daughter home ... safely home ... where she belonged.

"I came over here to pick up Grace. Right now. Please, get her things together and then get my daughter so I can take her home!"

"I...no ... _why_?" Danny stammered, his voice at first trailing off entirely. With a distinct effort, he shook his head, one hand waving idly through the air in confusion. "No. It's late, Rachel. She's sleeping."

"Danny, go back upstairs," Chin urged quietly. "Everything's fine here and Rachel was just leaving.

"What are you so damned afraid of?" The abruptly confrontational question, which was entirely aimed at Rachel, came out of Steve's mouth like a thunder clap and it seemed to even startle him. All conversation came to a grinding halt and for a decent span of time, no one moved or spoke. During the tense lull, Steve garnered a deeply inhaled breath. The pause had allowed him a long second to consider something; time to allow the germ of the idea to percolate and take a firmer hold.

 _Fear. Of course._

"You're afraid. That's all this can be about because I sure has hell can't think of any other reason as to why you'd be like this. What pushed you to leave someone who's always loved you? Use them and pull them closer, only to push them away again. You're afraid, Rachel. What happened in your life that you can't deal with ... _love_ and people who genuinely care about each other? What happened ... because you reject the best of everything and in doing that, cause pain for everyone else. Does it make you feel better? Do you get off on it? Is it for the money?"

"Steve." Despite Chin's continued silent pleas for him to leave, Danny hadn't moved from the staircase. His confused whisper ratcheted up a notch and he scowled at the back of Steve's head. "What're you doing? What's going on?"

Leaving the room was a much too unreasonable request with his own ex-wife standing directly on his best friend's front step. It was an impossible thing to demand with the Asian literally restraining his very angry friend. Steve wanted to rip Rachel's head off and Danny was therefore, irrevocably stuck in place. The two were nose to nose and full of an incredible hostility which Danny couldn't entirely grasp. He'd been roused from a dead sleep and his mind was still drenched in too many pain killers to accurately keep up with the conversation. For all of that though, he could see that his ex-wife's face had changed from anger to some sort of troubled grief.

"Can you all please tell me what's going on?" Danny asked. He wavered in place, desperately wanting to sit down. Better yet to lay down as his vision rippled like a flux of vertigo. The urge to be sick came with that surge and he closed his eyes with a sick swallow. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Rachel, it's late. You can't have Grace; she's sound asleep."

"You're crazy," Rachel murmured to Steve. She completed ignored Danny and whatever he'd just said in order to stare at Steve. He was horribly wrong, so incredibly _wrong_ and she shook her head in a vain attempt to explain herself. "I've always loved Danny. I didn't want to hurt him."

"Really? You have a helluva way of showing it," Steve muttered in disgust. "Even before you told the truth about Charlie, Danny wanted you back. He would have moved the heavens to have you back ... whether Charlie was his son or not ... he wanted his family back together again. And through all of that, Rachel, that baby had always been his son! How could you do that to him and keep up the charade for so long?"

"Just. Please. _Stop_." Danny's eyes were wide as he stared at Rachel's face, yet only managed to catch Chin's sympathetic eye. The argument was escalating at a startling pace and going down a most astonishing and very treacherous path. Grappling the banister, his head throbbed in time with the ache in his lower back and he fought the need to sit. "Stop ... this isn't the time."

Steve couldn't stop though; his anger had only worsened at the sound of Danny's pained voice. And now, the more Rachel tried to argue her case, the more he remembered past conversations with his friend and mentally called upon stolen voicemails heard when Grace had been been kidnapped. Danny had always been about Grace ... and Rachel. He'd have taken his ex-wife back in a warm heartbeat and she'd led him on only to trample him ruthlessly into the ground. Again and again.

"Do you think Stan's going to walk away because you _want_ him to? He's had a son that he's loved for three years and that man is not going to be able to do that anymore than Danny ever could. Is he paying for the medical bills, Rachel? The hospital, the specialized care, the multiple medical opinions? Those are no small things to ask of a man who's been that boy's father in every way since he's been born!" Steve nearly snarled his own case into her face. He was failing at keeping his voice low, too. With all his heart he didn't want to upset Danny, nor wake up Grace. Nonetheless, he could barely control himself because Danny had brought these very concerns to the table just the prior day. Once more, the bare facts of the matter could be beyond everyone's single control once it hit a court of law. If it did ... if Stan Edwards decided to exercise any of his own just rights.

"Steven," Danny's voice broke through and shook Steve loose enough from his anger to force him to at least inhale a settling breath. He didn't entirely cease his train of thought though; try as he may, Steve had to finish speaking these things which were much too close to the tip of his tongue to keep mute.

"Have you ever heard of paternity fraud, Rachel? It's when a mother lies about the biological father of her child; when she knows or suspects that he's not and still ... lies. And this is exactly what you did to Stan, too. You lied to everyone ... you tricked and used both Danny and Stan. You've potentially hurt your children and you could lose both of them and wind up with nothing."

Rachel stared at him fully now, her hand dropped for the door and wound up cradling the reddened skin around her own neck. She was _afraid_ , but it was like she already said because she loved Danny too much. But her heart lurched inside her chest as the meaning of Steve's last sentence crept nastily into her brain. She couldn't lose both Grace and Charlie ... she couldn't bear that happening.

"Charlie was never supposed to get so sick," Rachel whispered thinly. "None of this was supposed to happen."

"I'm sorry, what does that mean exactly?" Steve sneered. "Is that your newest excuse? Because we all know that you never would have confessed to who his really father was if he weren't - is that supposed to make this all better?" Steve shifted intentionally to block Rachel from Danny's view. He could hear Chin's warnings as well, none of which were healthy and meant that he should stop, yet he simply couldn't hold back now that he'd begun. Fingers dug firmly into his arm, begging censure, but it was much too late.

"Are you afraid of Danny? His job? What else have you lied about? Why did you hide the truth about Charlie from Danny? Why did you leave him when you both had a chance at reconciling?"

"I don't have to tell you anything, Commander," Rachel ground out, her eyes flashing defensively as her temper re-emerged. "You're not my interrogator and I don't owe you an explanation. What are you going to do? Arrest me if I don't leave because I came for my own daughter?"

"You have no idea how much I'd like to do that right now," Steve purred dangerously. "In the very least, you're trespassing."

"Rachel. Steve. We've gone over this," Danny muttered sickly from the middle of the staircase. "Steve, that's enough. Rachel, go home. _Please_. I'll bring Grace back as usual; she's not going anywhere in the middle of the night."

But he was ignored. He could see the pulse point slamming the thin white portion of skin by Rachel's left eye. From the inside out, it twitched and vibrated as her temper escalated. Danny took a tentative step closer, wincing as the movement rattled sore muscles. He was determined to put an end to the argument, but before he could get there, Rachel had begun to verbally round on Steve.

"When I found out I was pregnant with Charlie, I thought I could do it. I thought I could be the wife he needed because being a cop in New Jersey is easier than this damned Governor's Task Force. Danny's been exposed to things he never would have ... the danger is ten times worse. He's almost died ... _you_ , Commander, have almost died! My daughter was kidnapped!" Rachel was on the verge of tears now; equally unable to put a stop to her own tirade as emotions continued to escalate.

"But ... when Danny didn't join me at the airport that night, he proved it. He didn't even call until it was too late. When the Task Force fell apart, you dragged Danny right back into it."

"Peterson had nothing to do with Five-0 and I wasn't dragged into anything against my will," Danny objected. His interruption was instantaneous and drew everyone's attention towards where he was braced on the staircase. He was closer now, standing next to Chin, but still buffered from Rachel by the breadth of Steve's body.

"I needed to be here ... I needed to set things straight. Steve and Kono ... they both needed help and the issues with Governor Jameson were ... astronomical. The team was setup and Steve was incarcerated for something he didn't do! I couldn't just leave, Rachel. I just couldn't up and leave with things the way they were here."

"That makes it even worse," Rachel suddenly spat out. "Your loyalties are skewed, Daniel. Which family do you really want? Ours ... or this one."

"Why do they have to be different? There shouldn't be a difference between the two," Danny breathed out carefully. Steve's fury was on the rise again and he knew Rachel well. Even if his beleaguered brain still hadn't quite gotten caught up to speed, he at least knew their argument was only beginning to touch a Titanic-sized iceberg. They'd argued multiple times about where his loyalties truly were and they were never going to see eye to eye. Except this time, Steve was involved.

"But there's always been a difference. A big one which is even more apparent here in Hawaii ... in this universe you're married to your job and not to me. Never to me!" Rachel hissed, tears now streaming down her face. "I can't be what you want, Danny. I can't pray or hope or wonder if you'll come home safely every time you walk out that door!"

"You married a cop, Rachel. What do you want me to say ... or do? Quit? Because that's never going to happen," Danny dumbly replied. He was tired, achy and completely unwilling to go down this old over-used path. He glanced again to Chin and then to Steve before scowling unhappily back to Rachel. "Listen, I can't do this right now." The murmur was soft and filled with an exhausted pain. As soon as the last word left his mouth, Chin let go of Steve to gently brace Danny as he tottered.

"You need to get off your feet, _brah_ ," Chin whispered discreetly. "I'm really sorry that this is happening now, but you really need to lay down, Danny."

He nodded as way of reply, but still Danny didn't move. He couldn't until he was assured she'd peacefully left the house. "Rachel, go home. Please. It's late and I just can't do this right now. We've gone over this way too many times in the past and it doesn't work. _We_ just don't work."

Steve was speechless. The two people were on entirely different planes of existence. Their perspectives were complete polar opposites. Where Rachel only saw the potential for horror and danger; Danny saw himself as in a position to protect everyone he loved. _"I want to make this island a safer place for Grace, Steven."_ So could it really be that simple? That in her fear, Rachel tried to protect by hiding the things she loved? Hiding them away ... squirreling them away so, that her in her mind, they'd be safe?

"You don't understand because this was of life is ingrained in you ... it's part of all of you. _Danny_ can't do this tonight? Well, I do it every day." Rachel paused to wipe her face. She shrugged dramatically, her voice then breaking as she tried to explain herself.

"I didn't know what it meant to be a cop's wife until I was one and I can't _be_ that type of person. Yes, I love him, but I can't give him what he needs when he gets home from work after a bad day. I learned that truth when I was pregnant with Grace ... when his first partner was ... murdered. We named our daughter after her ... and I'm honored by that, but I can't live and breathe his job alongside him every minute of every hour and be expected to keep my sanity. The horror, the fear of what Danny really did and does every single day - _his normal_ \- it could never be mine and that danger isn't a _'what if' a_ nymore, it's only a ' _when_ '."

"Rachel, I never asked you for anything," Danny softly stated. "I only wanted us to be together."

"No? Together - is that all?" Rachel snorted both words out in derision, her focus swinging wildly back towards Danny. "The cold dinners? The late nights which became _no_ nights ... explaining to Grace why daddy isn't coming home again because he had to work ... again. Or worse yet, having to watch you leave in the middle of dinner or even during a school recital? I had to deal with the tears and the explanations - and I ran out of them! You didn't see what you were asking me to do because you weren't there, Daniel."

Rachel stood straighter, now resolute in getting out the entirety of her feelings. She glared defensively at Steve as she choked out each and every subsequent statement. "Being married to a detective is backing my car into a parking space ... _just in case_ I need to be more aware; and I always need to be more aware ... more on my guard. I began to see criminals everywhere I went. Honest to god felons in grocery stores and even in the library. I became an extension of Danny and his work. The stress was - and is - too much. The responsibility for myself was too much and then we added Grace into the mix, and now there's Charlie to consider. Tell me, why I can't sit peacefully in a restaurant and just ... have a nice dinner? Why do I have to sit with my back to the wall and make sure I know where each and every emergency exit is located? You all might willingly accept this, but it's not the normal that I want and I can't support him like this twenty-four hours a day; seven days a week ... it's exhausting ... and terrifying."

"All of that still doesn't fully explain lying about Charlie. Not by a long shot," Steve maintained. "If you loved Danny enough, you'd be there for him no matter the circumstances. If you loved him enough and trusted him ... _enough_ ... if you believed in him and the oath he took to protect and serve ... this _thing_ about Charlie never would have happened."

"I don't need you to understand," Rachel said. The basic truth was that she simply wasn't strong enough to be married to a cop. But even if that honest truth was broadcasted across the airwaves, her decision to hide Charlie from his father was indeed unforgivable. She couldn't deny that or claim it as part of her martial issues with Danny or her terror for his chosen profession.

"It wasn't what I meant to do," she whispered. "I made a mistake. None of this is that simple for me."

"Life isn't going to be about you all the time, Rachel," Steve bluntly replied. "Danny only needed to know that you were there for him. Waiting ... with pride despite what might or might not have happened. He wanted his family together. He only ever wanted the truth ... and now he wants to know his son. What I would like to know is how do you lie to someone who's never lied to you?"

Steve shifted again, his opinion clear, knowing too that he likely had gone too far that night with his own anger. He might reluctantly understand some of what she'd said, but he didn't need to go any further than his final words. His loyalty was to Danny and even to Grace, who also had been damaged by her mother's actions and decisions. He cracked his jaw and heaved in another deep breath of air before letting it out with in a somewhat patient rush.

"Danny and Grace are here because Danny wasn't feeling well enough to drive after the accident at the beach, Rachel. He's got some bruises and scrapes along his arms and on his back; nothing more. When I picked them up, we came back here to rest and have dinner. That's all there is to it. Grace is perfectly fine, so go home. Like Danny said, it's late and she's sleeping. He'll have her back on time and to whatever schedule you two have worked out. But definitely, not before."

The door closed then, snicking shut in its finality to the last bit of information which Steve was willing to deliver. His ultimatum about what would happen that evening was crystal clear. Rachel stood there though for a long time, just staring straight ahead. If Steve had been correct about anything, for all her pains and for all the lies she'd told, she could lose everything, including the children.

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

"I'm sorry, Danny," Steve said as he hurried towards his friend. The knuckles on one hand were white from the grip his friend was maintaining on the lower post to the banister. Chin had resorted to slinging an arm around Danny's waist to keep him from sagging to a seated position. That support was a mixed bag though based on the pain creasing Danny's face.

"She ... just showed up and began spouting demands. I didn't want to let her in the house or wake either of you. I reacted ... badly. I'm sorry."

"No. I should ... _should_ ... have called her," Danny ground out through clenched teeth, intentionally glossing over what just had occurred. They would talk more later. In truth, Steve hadn't said anything which wasn't valid. In fact, Danny was beyond thankful for Steve having his back in more ways than just one. He was tired and couldn't think straight. While the confrontation had been far from pleasant, Danny alone and by himself would have likely had an entirely different outcome. "She must have gotten back early. Then she saw the accident on the news ... s'okay. It's okay."

"Are you sure?" Steve asked. He was incredibly worried and he needed a bit more than a simple ' _okay_ ' to confirm he'd not gone too far. Way too far.

"Steve, it's really ... _truly_ ... okay," Danny whispered. He grinned soothingly and then wobbled, with Chin having to catch more of his weight. He shook his head ruefully, pulling on tight abrasions which made him wince even more. " _Man_ , I hurt."

"Be all of this as it may, talk later. It's over for tonight and you need to get off your feet now," Chin now insisted more adamantly. "I know I'm probably hurting your back, but I don't know how else to help you."

"Can't _be_ helped at all," Danny assured him. He needed their support and options on where he could be touched were limited. Steve had opted for elbow and hand, but even Danny's elbows were marred. "I'll be fine ... in a day or two."

Every part of his back ached, scored by the rough boards of the picnic table when it splintered. The scrapes, cuts and bruises were all technically very superficial. But he couldn't sit with ease, or even lay on his back on a soft mattress. The softest t-shirt caused a scratchy pain where it snagged the ruined skin. Only the array of ointments and antibiotic creams smeared over his arms and the skin of his back were a blessing. Yet, they still didn't help with easing the pain which flared with every move he made, so he'd been reluctantly taking pain medication, too.

The three turned at a painfully slow speed to begin their careful escort back up the stairs. But they stopped in their tracks when they saw the little girl at the top of the staircase. Wearing one of Steve's over-sized t-shirts which hung to her knees, Grace was standing motionless. Just watching.

"Grace? Monkey, how long have you been standing there?" Danny asked worriedly.

"I love you, Danno," Grace whispered. Her eyes were shining with tears yet none would be falling. Danny could easily tell that by the stern tilt of her chin. But when she spoke, the tears were evident in her voice, evenly measured with just enough anger. However long she'd been there, she'd certainly heard quite a bit.

"I'm going to stay with you ... _live_ with you. I"m old enough to decide for myself and it's what I want. There's a bus stop for school right at the corner of your house ... I'm old enough to be alone until you get home from work .. and it's closer to school, too. Even the high school is going to be closer, Danno!" With ever word, she was advancing towards them, her eyes solely on her father. By the time she'd stated her last word, she was one step above Danny and losing the battle with herself to not cry.

"I can and I will," she breathed out adamantly. "It's my choice. Mine and nobody else's ... _mine_."

He shushed her with a finger to her lips. His thumb wiped the lone tear which had managed to break loose on a downward track. But his teary-eyed smile of pride told her all she needed to know.

 _ **~ Version A - END ~**_


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Notes:** Rewrite version B. (gagged & sedated muse version where Steve is not so OCC). The similarities between chapters will be obvious - I plagiarized myself! LOL! For example, Grace's voice at the very end is not much different- but the change in tone is interesting and there's no Chin since he didn't quite "fit" in this version. Like I said before though, I did have some doubts about the first one myself with how Steve might conduct himself. So, I'm super glad Fifilla and I had such a fun discussion. Because LOOK! it forced another chapter out of my fingers! So it's a grand and very fun creative experiment. Personally, I may like the first one better. However, this one might be a tad more realistic.

Continued thanks to all your amazing comments, reams of advice and stupendous reviews. The detailed comments and conversations have made these few chapters an enjoyable learning experience and I love that everyone was comfortable sharing their opinions. Thank you for that!

For both writings, I've also done quite a bit of research and found some interesting articles related to police work, marriage and families. I've borrowed a few items which worked for the overall tact I chose when getting into Rachel's personal argument.

 **Between the Lies - Part Three Version B (** _End_ **)**

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

Though Steve had tried to remain quiet, Danny heard the escalating murmurs from the bedroom upstairs. The higher treble of Rachel's voice struck an uncomfortable chord and he lurched painfully up in bed, listening hard to be sure. He stumbled badly after setting his feet on the floor. Every muscle from his neck down through his scraped and scoured lower back was instantly on fire with the movement. As bile rose in his throat, he literally had to fight the urge to vomit from the pain. Sweat collected at the base of his throat, leaking downwards to soak into Steve's borrowed t-shirt, but he got moving when he heard Rachel's voice rising even more with Steve's octaves lower, but decidedly louder and extremely stressed. The urge to be sick was quickly forgotten as Danny descended the stairs, waking even more as he picked up more clearly on the intensity of the conversation.

"I don't think waking either one of them at this hour of the night is a good idea," Steve said, nearly all patience gone based upon tone of voice alone. "It's late. Grace is perfectly fine and you should go home. Danny will call you in the morning ... when the timing is better."

"I'm not leaving until I talk to Danny. _Now_. This instant," Rachel replied angrily. "And I'm certainly not leaving without Grace!"

"What the hell's going on?" Seconds later, Danny shouldered past Steve despite the way his bruised back burned from merely brushing against Steve's arm. He had gathered enough in the few minutes he'd overheard of their confrontation to understand at least one key thing. Rachel had heard something about the events from earlier that day and she'd over-reacted to an extent where she thought she'd literally demand having Grace returned.

"Steve's right. You need to leave." Danny was livid almost instantly. Woken from a deep sleep, he was at first achey and sore. Confused by the murmur of unidentifiable voices. Now though, as he gleaned more of the unexpected situation, his temper kicked in with his own indignant feelings as he looked into his ex-wife's furious face. He didn't care what she might have heard or thought, he had no intentions of changing any more of his plans that weekend.

"Where's Grace?" Rachel demanded once more, an odd look mixing both success and determination spreading across her features. She was inordinately pleased to finally see Danny appear, yet it was only because she felt that she was gaining ground. Rachel fidgeted in place her smirk easily growing as she faced Danny with a growing confidence. "Get her things together, Daniel, I'm taking her home."

"You're doing no such thing," Danny hissed. He was vibrating in place; trembling as his body argued pain medication, pain and being woken from a badly needed rest. Adrenalin now kept him on his feet and focused, but Danny was silently arguing physical ills and he knew Steve sensed it. With a steady step which he didn't quite feel, Danny took a resolute stride forward to glare more directly into Rachel's face in order to level his final decision.

"Grace isn't going anywhere tonight, and the only thing you're going to do is _leave_."

"Danny, calm down. _Back off_ ," Steve's voice whispered in his ear as firm hands wrapped quickly but very carefully around each of his biceps. " _Calm down._ Please, just take it easy." The voice was definitive in tone, but just loud enough for only him to hear. However, Danny had no intention of listening as he tried to shirk off Steve's hold but succeeded in only achieving the opposite reaction. Strong fingers tightened not only in warning, but of understanding and Danny barely managed to keep his voice to a reasonable pitch.

"You have no right. Especially here and especially now," Danny ground out dangerously. He had once told Steve of the volatility of their past arguments. He had described their joint fury and the depths of their combined ability to tear each other apart. Their hateful words showcased each at their absolute worst and right now, just eight short inches shy of the woman's newly stricken face, Danny didn't care that Steve would witness the atrocity firsthand. Not any more because he was officially done. So, let Rachel look mortified, ashamed, devastated ... because and without apology, he hoped he was indeed _frightening_ her.

"She wants to stay and she damned well will do just that," Danny growled. "You're not going to come here in the middle of the night and make ludicrous demands, Rachel. There's nothing wrong ... nothing _happened_ ... and you have zero rights to say one damned thing about it!"

"You think so, Daniel?" Rachel shook her head, the sneer on her lips deepening as her fist only tightened where it continued to hold the door wide open. "My daughter ..."

"Needs her father right now," Steve interrupted as he tried to remain calm for his partner's sake. The level of tension he could feel though his hands was startling, as was the instant spike of anger when Danny's muscles bunched in warning that he really might do something he'd regret later. Since that moment when Danny had come down the stairs, Steve hadn't meant to say a single word. He'd hoped their anger would diminish and peter off to nothing once Danny had weighed in and been given an opportunity to explain what Steve already had shared. Instead, a battle was being waged on his doorstep and as Danny began to unravel even more, Steve waded in defiantly. Grace needed Danny that weekend and she damn well was going to have him.

"This is ridiculous! Get out of my way," Rachel said, screwing her courage up a notch as both men held their ground. Her resentful look at Steve was just that ... irritated and filled with an unparalleled disbelief that he'd dare get involved or have opinion. "I'm taking my daughter home!"

"No. No, you're not," Steve maintained with a bit more reason than Danny had thus far been able to muster. Quietly, but firmly, Steve gently tugged Danny back a half-step into the entryway. He kept his expression utterly schooled, placid even, which was in direct contrast to Rachel Edwards' shocked expression. It was certainly also an antithesis to his best friend's visible rage which rattled Steve's hands as it coursed through a physically stressed body. "It's late and Grace is fine; she's sleeping. There's no justifiable reason for you to be here."

With both Danny and Grace finally resting inside his home after a horrendously long day, there was no way on earth he'd back down from his position. The blatant truth was clear, too. Rachel Edwards was currently not within any of her legal rights to be making any untoward demands. The only current issue which Steve felt he was faced with was how to best defuse both his friend and his friend's ex-wife. Afterwards, to then subsequently get Rachel Edwards to understand her flawed intents and do the right thing by leaving ... empty-handed.

"It's been a long day for everyone," Steve breathed out, once more hoping sensible words would prevail. "Let's all call it a night. You can both discuss this at a later time ... a much better time."

Danny's day had been long and beyond traumatic. The freak accident at the beach parking lot involving a driverless, beat up old box truck had first injured an elderly woman. The chaos had continued when the out of control truck had picked up speed on the slight grade. Traveling in reverse when its old brakes had slipped, the downward roll had sent it on a heedless trajectory directly towards Kamekona's food truck and quaint picnic area. People had screamed as the ancient rusted-out behemoth bore down on them. Some had scattered haphazardly in order to save themselves, but others had been hurt in the melee.

"Commander. Steve," Rachel dropped the tone of her voice as if to plead with the only person in the room who appeared to be rational. "You can't be serious."

She spoke around Danny as if her weren't standing directly in front of her. She stared at Steve and ignored how her tactic only served to increase Danny's disgust and anger. However, her own emotions re-intensified when Steve merely shook his head to decline without responding back with a single syllable.

Rachel heaved in a lungful of air, her eyes narrowing in distrust. She refused to budge a single inch with Danny equally entrenched in the doorway to Steve's home. With a determination which was beginning to wane, she kept her right fist planted in the middle of the front door to prevent it from being slammed into her face. Behind Danny, Steve stayed close but he was choosing not to respond to her latest entreaties, focusing instead on keeping Danny grounded.

"I want to see her," Rachel demanded again. Her tone had altered to one of a weary request, but her eyes still flashed as an angry blush began to spread upwards from her mottled neck. "At least let me see her ... I need to talk to her."

"No," Danny replied. "You want ridiculous? _This_ is ridiculous, Rachel. You coming here, in the middle of the night, making crazy demands!" His own voice was now searingly quiet and Steve grimaced uncomfortably. Only rarely had he heard Danny so very enraged and it didn't bode well for a happy outcome.

"You can't stop me from seeing my own child," Rachel pushed out. "It's bad enough that I found out about this _accident_ on TV ... on tonight's late night news!"

"This is where you're wrong. I can - and I will stop you," Danny vowed. "This is the last time I'm going to say it: Grace is fine and she's on my time. Your only option is to go home, Rachel."

"You have no right!" Rachel burst out, her voice rising as frustration got the better of her. Her cheeks reddened to match the sickly color staining her neck. "Why didn't anyone call me at least? Why didn't _you_ call me, Danny?"

"Danny's right, Rachel. Grace is perfectly fine and sleeping," Steve interjected as he threw the woman a small bone, praying for a calmer distraction and cooler minds. For all intents, no one had called Rachel because nothing of note had really happened to her daughter. For all the media coverage about the freak accident, there had been scarcely any injuries at all. And of the father and daughter, only Danny had been roughed up. Based upon her current reactions though, Rachel would never believe a single word of that truth.

"Grace is okay, but I told you that already ... as did Danny. So really, as far as you taking her out of here? No, that's not something that needs to happen tonight," he repeated, a wry smirk firmly planted on his lips. "You should both let it go ... for Grace's sake."

"I don't believe you." Rachel's eyes narrowed just as her fist clenched even more tightly. Her arm was growing tired but she didn't dare move her hand from its spot on the door. "Tell me right now, how badly was Grace injured today? I don't believe either one of you."

"Listen to me! There's nothing wrong!" Danny almost shouted in frustration. He groaned as Steve delved his fingers into already bruised arms. In silent answer, Danny carefully rolled his shoulders and winced as he pulled on sore muscles and ragged skin. His concerted effort to relax was communicated through his arms to Steve and he felt the severity of the hold lessen ever so slightly. With another grimace, he lifted his left arm to run his fingers through his sweaty hair. The motion exposed the bloody road rash which ran from the base of his wrist up to his elbow and then higher into the fleshy underside of his arm. Beneath the damage, painful discoloration was already forming. More bruises speckled his lower back where his muscles had been sorely wrenched in the intentional dive he'd taken to the ground. The picnic table which he and Grace had been sitting at had been demolished by the rampant box truck just before it had come to a reluctant halt. In a nearly super-human move, Danny had used his own body to protect his daughter.

And Grace ... other than being just a bit frightened, was absolutely unscathed.

 _"Danno? Danno, what happened?" The aftermath had been undeniably loud and frightening, with Grace left briefly trapped between her father and the sandy ground. Kamekona had then appeared as if by magic to physically lift the shattered table from Danny's badly scuffed-up back. The picnic area had been demolished and it was truly miraculous that no one had been killed once the truck had come to a screeching, clattering stop and the proverbial dust had settled._

 _"Are you alright, Monkey?" Danny coughed, grimacing as his skinned neck grated with every turn of his head. "I'm not sure, but are you okay?"_

 _"Yes," Grace sniffled. "I'm ... okay. But Danno ... your arms are bleeding."_

 _"It's nothing ... just a few scrapes, baby," he'd said. But at the time, with his back beginning to feel as if it had been flayed, he hadn't been entirely certain of that fact._

"Daniel? You ... your arms?" For a startled moment, Rachel paused, stunned by the streaks of blood-red scratches which were only starting to scab over for their newness. She'd only returned from Maui earlier that very same evening. Like many people, she'd watched the late night news to catch up on current events. What she hadn't anticipated seeing though was a taped broadcast about a freak accident where an old box truck had slipped its brakes and rocketed backwards across a beach parking lot. People had scattered near a food truck when the errant vehicle jumped the curb, a small picnic area had been demolished, and there were a few injuries reported.

The media taping had interviewed the excited large Hawaiian owner of the food truck and Rachel would have recognized Kamekona anywhere. At first, she had smiled because the big man was eating up the attention. His flamboyant _shaka_ sign and gregarious reassurances that this food truck was _'a-okay brah!'_ and that he'd be open for business very soon with new tables was endearing. Until the piece had cut to a few interviews, shots of the aftermath from the truck's out of control path of destruction, and two-second snippet of a dark-haired child that looked incredibly like her own daughter. A few desperate phone calls later had confirmed that suspicion and when neither Grace nor her ex-husband had answered her frantic calls, she'd tracked them both down.

"What? _Me_?" At an immediate loss to answer Rachel's sudden and very unexpected concern for him, he wound up repeating himself with Grace's frightened voice stuck in his head. He snorted in disgust, yet his tone then softened just enough to clarify his continued stance and still drive it home. "I'm good ... and as for Grace, there isn't a single scratch on her. Not a bump, or a bruise or even a splinter."

Rachel's mouth opened soundlessly and then closed, snapping shut so hard she clacked her teeth. Her eyes roamed the rest of his body, but she didn't see what was hidden on his back beneath the wrinkled t-shirt. All she could see was his bone-deep exhaustion and the slight hunch of his upper body. Rachel frowned, momentarily quieting as she decided where to go in her mind.

"Danny?" She knew that she should inquire about his injuries. She could walk away, too, just as he asked. However, she'd long ago lost her ability to be or even sound reasonable since stress and not knowing enough of the details had pushed her over a critical edge. So now, though she could see a few of Danny's scrapes and bruises for herself, those only meant Grace could also have been equally hurt. She needed Grace and she needed to get her daughter home ... safely home ... where she belonged.

"I came over here to pick up Grace. Right now. Please, get her things together and then get my daughter so I can take her home!" She frowned, her lips thinning whitely as she denied her ex-husband any courtesy. She had only briefly waffled on her decision to walk away, coming full circle back to the original purpose of her visit.

"I...no ... _why_?" Danny stammered inanely, his voice at first trailing off entirely only to strengthen in conviction. With a distinct effort to control both his stress and what might come out of his mouth, he shook his head, one hand waving idly through the air. "You know what? No. It's late, Rachel, and you're just gong to upset her. It's not necessary to drag her into what this is really about. We're done here. We're _done_ ... I want you to leave ... I want you to go home."

"What are you so damned afraid of?" The abruptly confrontational question, which was entirely aimed at Rachel, came out of Steve's mouth like a thunder clap and it seemed to even startle him. All conversation came to a grinding halt and for a decent span of time, no one moved or spoke. During the tense lull, Steve garnered a deeply inhaled breath. The pause had allowed him a long second to consider something; time to allow the germ of the idea to percolate and take a firmer hold.

 _Fear. Of course._

"You're crazy," Rachel said to Steve before Danny could offer a comment. He was horribly wrong, so incredibly _wrong_ and she shook her head in a vain attempt to explain herself. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"Really? Then why are you here?" Steve replied over the loud snort of disbelief which emanated out of his friend's chest.

"Because, ..." Danny breathed snidely, a strange lilt added to his voice. One that spoke now of his own hurt mistrust. "Because Rachel doesn't trust me and she wants to control everything ... including everything about _my_ children ... before it's too late."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rachel whispered, hesitant now as Danny's demeanor became deathly still. "Too late for what?"

"Even before you told the truth about Charlie, I wanted you back," Danny stated softly. His voice was breathy and low. Nonetheless, his hands were fisted and his upper body a coiled mess only held together by Steve's tactile touch. But he had news for her and he decided that very moment was the single best time.

"Do you think Stan's going to walk away because you _want_ him to? He's had a son that he's loved for three years and that man is not going to be able to do that anymore than I ever could. Is he paying for the medical bills, Rachel? The hospital, the specialized care, the multiple medical opinions? Those are no small things to ask of a man who's been that boy's father in every way since he's been born!" Danny nearly snarled his own case into her face. He was back to failing at keeping his voice low, too. With all his heart he didn't want to wake up Grace. Regardless, he could barely control himself because he had brought these very concerns to the table with Steve. Once more, the bare facts of the matter could be beyond everyone's single control once it hit a court of law. If it did ... if Stan Edwards decided to exercise any of his own just rights ... Danny would have yet another fight on his hands.

"Danny," Steve's voice broke through and shook Danny loose enough from his outrage to force him to at least inhale a settling breath. He didn't entirely cease his train of thought though; try as he may, he had to finish speaking these things which were much too close to the tip of his tongue to keep mute.

"Have you ever heard of paternity fraud, Rachel? It's when a mother lies about the biological father of her child; when she knows or suspects that he's not and still ... lies. And this is exactly what you did to me ... and to Stan, too. You lied to everyone ... you tricked me and used Stan for your own gain. You've potentially hurt _our_ children; you could lose both of them and wind up with nothing. Isn't that right, Steve?"

"Yeah. It's the truth," Steve agreed, scowling at having to bring up their recent conversation. He fidgeted uncomfortably when Danny turned slightly to catch his eye before he sucked in a long tendril of air and nodded. "It's a valid concern for all three of you ... and for both Grace and Charlie. This isn't going to play out very _pretty_ , for lack of a better word. And Danny's right, depending upon the courts, you could lose Charlie ... or even both children."

Rachel stared at Steve fully now, her hand dropped for the door and wound up cradling the reddened skin around her own neck. She was _afraid_ , but all of this had happened because she loved Danny too much. But her heart lurched inside her chest as the meaning of Steve's last sentence crept nastily into her brain. She couldn't lose both Grace and Charlie ... she couldn't bear that happening.

"Charlie was never supposed to get so sick," Rachel whispered thinly. "None of this was supposed to happen."

"I'm sorry, what does that mean exactly?" It was Steve's turn to chuff his disgust. He continued to hold Danny's arms, loosely, but he didn't dare release him entirely. He could feel the ongoing tension under his fingers and he knew that his friend needed his support, now more than ever before. Emotions were still very high as the air crackled around them and Steve found himself wanting to weigh in and reinforce his friend's very valid position more and more.

"Is that your newest excuse for Danny and even for Stan? Because it's fairly obvious that you never would have confessed to who Charlie's real father was if he weren't so sick - so, is saying it out loud supposed to make this better?"

"I don't have to justify myself to you or even tell you anything at all, Commander," Rachel ground out, her eyes flashing defensively as her temper re-emerged. "You're not my interrogator and I don't owe you an explanation. What are you going to do? Arrest me if I don't leave because I came for my own daughter?"

"You have no idea how much I'd like to do that right now," Steve purred dangerously. "In the very least, you're trespassing." He was justly angry and doing his best to remain level-headed. But truth be told, he'd now had more than enough and Danny wasn't in the physical condition, nor the best frame of mind to continue.

The hour was late and the longer this continued, the more of a real dispute the situation would become and Steve didn't relish the concept of being more in the midst of a bitter dispute. Making matters so much worse, was the risk of Grace actually waking. Having her bear witness to both her parents arguing venomously wasn't something which Steve wished even in the most remote corners of his mind.

"We've all had enough for one night," Danny muttered unhappily as if reading Steve's very thoughts. He could see the pulse point slamming the thin white portion of skin by Rachel's left eye. From the inside out, it twitched and vibrated as her temper escalated. Danny took a step closer, stopped in his tracks by the strong grip on his arms, and he winced as the movement rattled sore muscles. He was determined now to put an end to the argument, but before he could get more of his logical thoughts engaged with his mouth, Rachel had begun to verbally round on Steve.

"When I found out I was pregnant with Charlie, I thought I could do it. I thought I could be the wife he needed because being a cop in New Jersey is easier than this damned Governor's Task Force. Danny's been exposed to things he never would have ... the danger is ten times worse. He's almost died ... _you_ , Commander, have almost died! My daughter was kidnapped!" Rachel was on the verge of tears now; equally unable to put a stop to her own tirade as emotions continued to escalate.

"But ... when Danny didn't join me at the airport that night, he proved it. He didn't even call until it was too late. When the Task Force fell apart, you dragged Danny right back into it."

"Peterson had nothing to do with Five-0 and I wasn't dragged into anything against my will," Danny objected. His interruption was instantaneous. Eyes narrowing in warning, his tone was resentful as he explained what he'd done so many times in the past. "I needed to be here ... I needed to set things straight. Steve and Kono ... they both needed help and the issues with Governor Jameson were ... astronomical. The team was setup and Steve was incarcerated for something he didn't do! I couldn't just leave, Rachel. I just couldn't up and leave with things the way they were here."

"That makes it even worse," Rachel spat out. "Your loyalties are skewed, Daniel. Which family do you really want? Ours ... or this one."

"Skewed? Is that what you think?" Steve breathed out, his own disbelief now taking center stage at Rachel's choice of words. He blinked in astonishment as her definition of family also sunk into his brain. "Which ... family ... _seriously_? This is one whole ... there's no difference between the two. There's no separation."

"You're wrong. There's always been a difference, Commander," Rachel nearly sneered her sarcastic reply from him and then back to Danny where her eyes glittered darkly. "A big one which is even more apparent here in Hawaii ... in this universe where Danny is married to his job more than ever before - and not to me. _Never_ to me! I can't be what you wanted, Danny. I can't pray or hope or wonder if you'll come home safely every time you walk out that door!"

"You married a cop, Rachel. What do you want me to say ... or do? Quit? Because that's never going to happen," Danny replied. He was tired, achy and completely unwilling to go down this old over-used path. He glanced over this shoulder to Steve before scowling unhappily back to Rachel. "Listen, I can't do this right now." The murmur was soft and filled with an exhausted pain; he'd absolutely had enough and needed her to leave. But he couldn't move from the front door until he was assured she'd peacefully left the house. "Rachel, go home. Please. It's late and I just can't do this right now. We've gone over this way too many times in the past and it doesn't work. _We_ just don't work."

Steve was speechless. The two people were on entirely different planes of existence. Their perspectives were complete polar opposites. Where Rachel only saw the potential for horror and danger; Danny saw himself as in a position to protect everyone he loved. _"I want to make this island a safer place for Grace, Steven."_ So could it really be that simple? That in her fear, Rachel tried to protect by hiding the things she loved? Hiding them away ... squirreling them away so, that her in her mind, they'd be safe?

"You don't understand because this was of life is ingrained in you ... it's part of all of you. _Danny_ can't do this tonight? Well, I do it every day." Rachel paused to wipe frustrated tears from her face. She shrugged dramatically, her voice then breaking as she tried to explain herself.

"I didn't know what it meant to be a cop's wife until I was one and I can't _be_ that type of person. Yes, I love Danny! But I can't give him what he needs when he gets home from work after a bad day. I learned that truth when I was pregnant with Grace ... when his first partner was ... murdered. We named our daughter after her ... and I'm honored by that, but I can't live and breathe his job alongside him every minute of every hour and be expected to keep my sanity. The horror, the fear of what Danny really did and does every single day - _his normal_ \- it could never be mine and that danger isn't a _'what if' a_ nymore, it's only a ' _when_ '."

"Rachel, I never asked you for anything," Danny argued. "I only wanted us to be together."

"No? _Together_ \- is that all?" Rachel snorted both words out in derision, her focus swinging wildly back towards Danny. "The cold dinners? The late nights which became _no_ nights ... explaining to Grace why daddy isn't coming home again because he had to work ... again. Or worse yet, having to watch you leave in the middle of dinner or even during a school recital? I had to deal with the tears and the explanations - and I ran out of them! You didn't see what you were asking me to do because you weren't there, Daniel."

Rachel stood straighter, now resolute in getting out the entirety of her feelings. She glared defensively at Steve who bore witness to their argument and hadn't budged a single inch as she choked out each and every subsequent statement. "Being married to a detective is backing my car into a parking space ... _just in case_ I need to be more aware; and I always need to be more aware ... more on my guard. I began to see criminals everywhere I went. Honest to god felons in grocery stores and even in the library. I became an extension of Danny and his work. The stress was - and is - too much. The responsibility for myself was too much and then we added Grace into the mix, and now there's Charlie to consider. Tell me, why I can't sit peacefully in a restaurant and just ... have a nice dinner? Why do I have to sit with my back to the wall and make sure I know where each and every emergency exit is located? You all might willingly accept this, but it's not the normal that I want and I can't support him like this twenty-four hours a day; seven days a week ... it's exhausting ... and terrifying."

"All of that still doesn't fully explain lying about Charlie. Not by a long shot," Steve affirmed, his fingers entangled once more on Danny's arms as a warning to remain calm and to communicate that he had support. "If you loved Danny enough, you'd be there for him no matter the circumstances. If you loved him enough and trusted him ... _enough_ ... if you believed in him and the oath he took to protect and serve ... this _thing_ about Charlie never would have happened. And you'd also go home tonight and leave Grace here ... with her father."

"I don't need _you_ to understand," Rachel said. The basic truth was that she simply wasn't strong enough to be married to a cop. But even if that honest truth was broadcasted across the airwaves, her decision to hide Charlie from his father was indeed unforgivable. She couldn't deny that or claim it as part of her martial issues with Danny or her terror for his chosen profession.

"It wasn't what I meant to do," she whispered. "I made a mistake. None of this is that simple for me."

"Life isn't going to be about you all the time, Rachel," Danny replied bluntly. "I only needed to know that you were there for me. Waiting ... with some semblance of understanding ... acceptance ... despite what might or might not have happened. I wanted our family to be together. But most of all, I only ever wanted the truth from you!"

Danny wavered, paling as his final outburst used up a final spike of adrenalin-riddled reserves. For her part, Rachel seemed to see the change, too. Either that, or her own obstinate stance was weakening and coming to a close. The look on her face altered slightly as her fingers scrabbled now for the wilted neck of her blouse.

"I think that's enough," Steve affirmed, encouraging the two to call it quits. He might reluctantly understand some of what Rachel had said, but he didn't need to go any further. His loyalty was to Danny and even to Grace, who also had been damaged by her mother's actions and decisions. He cracked his jaw and heaved in another deep breath of air before letting it out with in a somewhat patient rush. He stepped forward, inserting himself gently next to Danny as way of making a further statement.

"Danny and Grace are here because Danny wasn't feeling well enough to drive after the accident at the beach, Rachel. He's got some bruises and scrapes along his arms and on his back; nothing more. When I picked them up, we came back here to rest and have dinner. That's all there is to it. Grace is perfectly fine, so go home. Like Danny said, it's late and she's sleeping and this ... _argument_ ... if you insist on waking her up ... its just going to make her very upset. And for what reason exactly? What would that prove?"

Steve made a face about what he'd just said about Grace, momentarily losing his train of thought as he edged Danny back farther into the house. He knew he was right though and his comments had a desired impact on Rachel, too. His own hand found the door as she visibly wavered now, providing Steve with his final opportunity. "He'll have her back on time and to whatever schedule you two have worked out. But definitely, not before," he offered quietly.

Rachel's hand dropped bonelessly to her side. The three stared at each other in silence for a long heavy moment of time. The door closed then, snicking shut in its finality to that last bit of information which Steve was willing to deliver. His ultimatum about what would happen that evening was crystal clear. Rachel stood there though for a long time, just staring straight ahead. If Danny and Steve had been correct about anything, for all her pains and for all the lies she'd told, she could lose everything, including the children.

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

"I'm sorry, Danny," Steve said softly. "She ... just showed up and began spouting demands. I didn't want to let her in the house or wake either of you."

"Don't be sorry," Danny replied. "I heard her voice. But she's right I guess about one thing ... I should ... _should_ ... have called her," he ground out through clenched teeth, intentionally glossing over what just had occurred. They would talk more later. In truth, Steve hadn't said anything which wasn't valid. The blatant fact was that Danny was beyond thankful for Steve having tried to watch his back in more ways than just one. While the confrontation had been far from pleasant, Danny alone and by himself would have likely had an entirely different outcome. Their argument would have taken on even more mammoth proportions and to keep some of the peace, Danny likely would have permitted Rachel access. He would have lost an important skirmish in this new war. He would have allowed Rachel to remove Grace from his home ... and he would have been absolutely devastated. Then his thoughts fell to Grace and he inwardly cringed about the potential affect of such an event on his daughter.

"She must have gotten back early. Then she saw reports of the accident on the news. But, it's okay. Really," Danny whispered, glancing unhappily to the foot of the long staircase. Coming down the flight, distracted by an unannounced visitor was one thing. Climbing back up with his scoured skin stinging and bruised muscles screaming with every step, was going to feel like an impossible chore.

"Are you sure?" Steve asked. He was incredibly worried and he needed a bit more than a simple ' _okay_ ' to confirm he'd not gone too far. Way too far.

"Steve, it's really ... _truly_ ... okay and I'm glad you were there," Danny declared. He grinned soothingly and then wobbled, with Steve having to catch most of his weight. He shook his head ruefully as he pushed Rachel from his mind and the real physical aches of the returned in earnest. His first few steps pulled on tight abrasions which made him wince even more. " _Man_ , I hurt."

"I know," Steve sighed regrettably, not only for the unexpected stress which Danny had been forced to endure, but also for his obvious discomfort. Readjusting his hand to brace Danny's elbow without hurting him even more, he could literally feel how all the energy had been drained from his friend. "We'll go slow ... just tell me if I hurt you, or if you need to take a break."

"Thanks," Danny murmured under his breath. "Slow is good." Every part of his back ached, scored by the rough boards of the picnic table when it splintered. The scrapes, cuts and bruises were all technically very superficial. But he couldn't sit with ease, or even lay on his back on a soft mattress. The softest t-shirt caused a scratchy pain where it snagged the ruined skin. Only the array of ointments and antibiotic creams smeared over his arms and the skin of his back were a blessing. Yet, they still didn't help with easing the pain which flared with every move he made, so he'd been reluctantly taking pain medication, too.

The two turned at a painfully slow rate to begin their careful ascent back up the stairs. But they stopped in their tracks when they saw the little girl at the top of the staircase. Wearing one of Steve's over-sized t-shirts which hung to her knees, Grace was standing motionless. Just watching.

"Grace? Monkey, how long have you been standing there?" Danny asked worriedly.

"I love you, Danno," Grace whispered. Her eyes were shining with tears yet none would be falling. Danny could easily tell that by the stern tilt of her chin. But when she spoke, the tears were evident in her voice, evenly measured with just enough anger. However, long she'd been there, she'd certainly heard quite a bit.

"I'm going to stay with you ... _live_ with you. I"m old enough to decide for myself and it's what I want. There's a bus stop for school right at the corner of your house ... I'm old enough to be alone until you get home from work .. and it's closer to school, too. Even the high school is going to be closer, Danno!" With ever word, she was advancing towards them, her eyes solely on her father. By the time she'd stated her last word, she was one step above Danny and losing the battle with herself to not cry.

"I can and I will," she breathed out adamantly. "It's my choice. Mine and nobody else's ... _mine_."

He shushed her with a finger to her lips. His thumb wiped the lone tear which had managed to break loose on a downward track. But his teary-eyed smile of pride told her all she needed to know.

 _ **~ END ~**_


End file.
